Lies
by scorchedtrees
Summary: Four times Levi lied to Petra. Rivetra.


**Lies**

or: four times levi lied to petra

* * *

_1._

He has seen it many, many times before—the trembling hands, the shaking shoulders, the wide eyes and pale faces and muffled sobs of new recruits who have just survived their first expedition. There should be nothing different about this soldier, the young woman with the short copper hair wiping tears off her cheeks two paces to his left, but for some reason he finds himself approaching her anyway, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief to offer her.

He realizes what is special about her when she turns to face him: she does not look shocked, just sad, and she cries freely, not bothering to hide her tears. He nearly gives her the handkerchief before remembering it is the one he uses to wipe blood and gore off his blades and retracts his hand quickly.

"Captain," she says when she sees him, straightening a bit; she is shorter than him, but just barely. "I..."

Now that he has no handkerchief to offer, he has nothing to say, no reason to be standing before her. She stares at him, eyes watery and lips strained, and a faint memory flashes to mind—the most recent initiation ceremony: she graduated perhaps fifth in her class, a slight girl with hair like muted fire, eyes like faded stars.

She is small but she is strong, he thinks; she will learn how to make it, she will survive, so instead of leaving then, instead of attempting wordless comfort or any comfort at all, he finds himself saying, "It gets easier."

He walks off before the relief on her face makes him take back his words.

_2._

He knows she's always wondered before but never asked—he is her superior and she should follow his orders, not question them or question him. But it has been months, nearly a year since she first came directly under his command and now she is as familiar with him as he is with her—she laughs at the shitty things he says no matter how stupid they are and stirs half a cube of sugar into his coffee without asking; he tells her not to get her 3DMG straps tangled with Auruo's again before it even happens and gives her two days' leave every month before she asks. Sometimes his voice doesn't sound like his own when he says her name (it is much too placid) and sometimes she calls him Levi.

So he is not surprised when one night, after the dishes have been cleared and the rest of the squad have gone upstairs and they are sitting around the dinner table in relative silence, she says thoughtfully, "You know, you never did tell me why you picked me for your squad in the first place."

"Didn't I?" he says, circling something on his paper.

"No." She tucks a loose strand of hair behind one ear and chews at her lip. "I thought it was probably because I had a few Titan kills under my belt already, but..." She pins him with an expectant look, and he doesn't think twice before answering.

"I chose Gunter last and your name was above his on the list."

She was right, he picked her for her ability and the experience she had over her comrades; but she outmaneuvers even Erd the next day during training, her eyes burning with the desire to prove herself, and he thinks it might be the best shitty thing he's ever said.

_3._

He has always imagined she would be soft, rounded angles and curved planes and gentle with her hands, so he is somewhat startled at the hard press of her mouth against his, the way her fingers grip his arms, so tightly it feels like she might never let go. Her cheek is warm against his, their breaths mingling for a moment before he pulls away, tries to jerk himself out of her grasp.

"What the hell, Petra—"

She kisses him again, her lips sweet like honey, like vanilla, but salty with the dirt and sweat of hours spent outside the walls, running and fighting and bleeding alongside their comrades. She tastes so familiar, just like the life he's led in the Scouting Legion for the past few years, but so much better and he wants it, he wants this, he wants to hold her to him and keep her there; but he should have known better to let her get so close and this is inappropriate on so many levels and he wonders what Erwin would think of this so he tries to shove her away again.

But her hands have encircled his wrists, preventing him from doing anything, and he has more strength than her; if he truly wanted to push her away he could have done so any second now. "Tell me you don't want this," she says, her lips right next to his ear, her breath tickling his cheek, and his heart is pounding far too quickly for someone who has not moved from one position at all in the past half hour.

"I don't want this," he says, but he sounds weak and unconvincing even to his own ears.

"I don't believe you."

And then she is kissing him again, her mouth hot and sweet against his skin, her hands tracing feathery trails up his arms before reaching his shoulders to pull him closer, and he can only give up the pretense then and kiss her back.

_4._

He has seen her cry before, many times, usually over fallen soldiers or out of sheer frustration; but these are different tears, completely silent and nearly still, slipping out of her eyes like wet ghosts that disappear into the bedsheets.

"What's wrong?" he says, turning to face her, still feeling rather groggy with sleep. The sun is not up over the horizon yet.

She smiles feebly and wraps her arms around him, hands forming nervous fists; he rubs slow circles on her back. "Did something happen?"

"Nothing," she says, voice quiet. "I just... don't have a good feeling about today's expedition, that's all."

His hands still and her arms tighten almost painfully around him so he continues his ministrations. "I know there's more to it than what you told us... than what Erwin told us... Eren..."

"Hey," he says quickly, immediately; anything to stop her thoughts from going down an unnecessary dark path. "It's still just another expedition. We've lived through so many of them; what the fuck are you worried about?"

"I know, I'm being stupid," she sighs, pressing her face to the crook of his neck. "I just feel like... something bad is going to happen."

He places a light kiss on her head and her lips twitch into a small smile against his skin. "You know what's going to happen? Nothing bad, that's what. We're going to be perfectly fine. We're going to come back triumphant and those bastards in Sina won't have anything to say against us. We're going to see your father together and tell him the news the moment we get the chance."

"You're right," she murmurs; he can feel her breath start to even out. "That's what's going to happen."

"We're going to be perfectly fine," he repeats, and as she whispers her thanks in his ear and her fists relax into curled fingers against his back, he can only hope it isn't a lie.


End file.
